Preservation
by sodakey
Summary: A tag to Minimal Loss--where Prentiss and Reid are held hostage by the cult. Morgan. Reid. Emily referenced heavily. Some team. Gen.


_Summary:_ An unnecessary tag to Minimal Loss (where Prentiss and Reid are held hostage by the cult). Morgan. Reid. Emily referenced heavily. Some team. Gen. Assumes you are familiar with the show and the episode.

_Disclaimer:_ Not mine

_Author notes:_ unabashedly utilizing the show's habit of leading with quotes.

And, the story itself is a little… a little overly… I don't know the word. It's overly something. A little too much honey in the recipe, maybe. I try to avoid that, generally, but you know how it is, once it's in there, it sticks to everything and is hard to scrape out. And not the strongest bit, conceptually, but having been dragged from the depths of my computer, it is what it is. No beta.

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**Preservation**

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_"I believe we are still so innocent. The species are still so innocent that a person who is apt to be murdered believes that the murderer, just before he puts the final wrench on his throat, will have enough compassion to give him one sweet cup of water." -Maya Angelou _

The team stood from their seats, preparing to deplane. Reid stood with them, shuffling over and reaching for his _go_ bag. The hum of the engine vibrated under his feet. It made the air feel loud against his skin, like the density of his flesh had increased.

"Nah uh uh," said Morgan. "Bruised ribs." He pointed. "Right now, that is my bag." On the other side of the plane, behind Morgan, Hotch was watching.

Reid drew his hands back. Folding his arms across his chest, he tucked his fingers in tight to his body. The ache in his side clutched outward at his hand, suctioning it closer until it felt like it was part of the swelling. He pulled his lips together and moved enough to let Morgan reach over him. Once Morgan had the bag in hand, he looked over Reid's head, eyes communicative. Hotch nodded succinctly and disappeared down the steps.

"Let's go, kid." Morgan touched Reid's shoulder, stilling the static on that area of his body, muting sensation, changing the speed of atoms and molecules between that part of Reid and the rest of the world. "Come on."

Reid walked. At the bottom of the steps, the tarmac gripped the balls of his feet, the contrasting absence of vibration starkly jarring, giving little as he shuffled behind Morgan toward the row of cars. The night was clear, showing bright lights around the airstrip, but few stars.

"Morgan," said Hotch, stopping at the door of his SUV.

"I've got him," answered Morgan. "I'll get him home." The hatch on the vehicle Morgan was driving clicked and swung upward.

Hotch met Reid's eyes briefly, then turned his head, gaze high and tall. "Prentiss," he said next. She was walking with JJ. The bruises on her face were like nothing but shadows until she tipped her chin up, changing the angles, shifting into light.

"Rossi's driving me," she answered. Her posture was calm, peaceful under the mask of burst blood vessels. Reid tucked his arms tighter around his chest and breathed out slow.

Hotch looked to Rossi for confirmation. "Okay," he said, once he had it, opening his vehicle and sweeping his gaze back to Reid. "Get some rest. Both of you."

"Yes, sir," said Emily, moving over to the passenger side of Rossi's van. The click of steel sounded as her door opened. A small sound, but it seemed to reach through the asphalt to Reid's toes. "Reid," she called. She was watching him.

He met her eyes. She smiled, soft, like she had on the plane. He smiled back. Silence followed. Prentiss said nothing more as she stepped inside and let JJ close the door, but he could hear her voice echoing in his head. _It was my decision and I would do it again. Do you hear me?_

There was knot in Reid's stomach that loosed and another that twisted tighter.

_Do you hear me?_

"Reid." There was a touch on his shoulder. "Hey, are you listening?" Morgan popped the passenger door and moved his hand to Reid's elbow. "We're loaded up. Time to go." He waited until Reid was all the way in, then closed it.

The seatbelts locked and the engine moved. They followed the taillights of their teammates, red flickering as the SUVs slowed and turned. Trees took over the road's borders, streetlights flashing past them in four-second intervals. After the fourth turn, Morgan reached to turn down the radio. "Come on, big brain," he said softly, "I can tell you're thinkin' somethin' over there, but I can't read your mind. Spill."

Reid turned his head, lips held loosely together. The pads of his fingers felt numb. He ran his thumb over his knee and waited to see if his skin would register the texture. He opened his mouth, closed it up, and then opened it again. "Why did she do it, do you think?"

"Who?"

"Emily."

Morgan sighed, like he'd been expecting this. "Why did she say she was the FBI agent?"

Reid nodded. "On the plane, coming back, she said it was her choice and she'd do it again and she needed me to know it wasn't my fault."

"It _wasn't_ your fault."

Reid dropped his head against the headrest and turned his eyes out the window.

"Reid, man, it wasn't your fault. Cyrus. He's the only one responsible here."

Fingers twitching, Reid looked back, meeting Morgan's eyes before they returned to the road. "I know," he said softly. "I know it was Cyrus's fault."

"But?"

"If it'd been you, or Hotch with her—"

"Stop right there. First of all, if Hotch had been with her, they would have pegged him as a G-man before he even stepped out of the car. Second, it wasn't me. And it wasn't Hotch. It was you and Prentiss, and you both did what you had to do." Morgan slowed the car and took a right. The tiny sound still coming from the radio became a hiss. He reached out and turned it off altogether.

The silence in its wake didn't feel all that silent.

"You think she did the right thing," Reid said next.

"Excuse me?"

"You all do." Reid swallowed. He laced his fingers and held still. "The whole team."

Morgan opened his mouth.

Reid spoke first. "None of you would say it, and you were just as worried about her, but you think she did the right thing in speaking up."

Morgan sighed. His hands shifted on the wheel. "Reid."

"I'm a profiler, Morgan."

Morgan was silent for a moment. "Okay," he breathed. "I guess, yeah, maybe. If I were in her shoes, I'd like to say I would have done the same thing. She didn't want you to get hurt, kid. I definitely don't fault her for that. You've been through a lot, none of us want to see you go through anymore."

"We've all been through a lot."

Morgan started to shake his head, but he stopped. For a long stretch the car was filled only with the hum of the road. "Not all of us have been kidnapped and tortured," he said finally, carefully. "But all of us remember that you were."

A cold tremble made itself known in Reid's fingertips.

"Reid," Morgan prompted. "Talk to me."

"Cyrus was pointing a gun at my face when she said it. I thought he was going to pull the trigger. In my head, I kept hearing the click. Like…"

"Like Tobias Hankel?"

"Yeah." Reid licked his lips. "And my mind… it just went blank, and then Emily… she said that she was the FBI agent. For all she knew he was going to shoot her, not beat her up."

Morgan closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose, but the car stayed steady.

"He could have killed her," Reid continued. "My mind was blank and then I heard her voice and I just… I didn't know what to do. I didn't say anything. I thought we'd find another way to negotiate, or… what if she'd died?"

"She didn't."

Frustration ran under Reid's skin. A sudden flood of warmth into his hands. "But, doesn't that make me a liability?" he asked. He was sitting away from the seatback, hand running through his hair. "If it had been you, you wouldn't've—"

"Reid." Morgan eased the car over. "Reid." He put it in park and reached out to lightly grab Reid's wrist, tugging to get his attention. He angled his body and said, "Reid, look at me."

Shifting his knee over, Reid looked.

"Everyone second guesses themselves after something like this, but hear me: you did what you had to do. You worked the profile. You gave us everything you could from the inside. You stayed calm. You kept your head clear, and you used it when it counted. And Tobias Hankel or no Tobias Hankel, Prentiss would have still done what she did, and maybe the rest of us would have still thought she did the right thing."

Reid shifted, looking out at a light and a lawn, and the imagined sight of fireflies close to the ground. He used his free hand to rub at his eyes.

Morgan tugged quietly on his wrist. "Hey, you want an honest answer here?"

Turning his eyes back, Reid nodded.

Morgan leaned forward. "Then here it is," he said. "If that bastard preacher had lived and I'd gotten a few minutes alone with him in a dark alley, I don't know if I would have been able to control myself because of what he did to her. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm grateful for what she did for you. She wanted you safe, kid. That's all. And she did what she had to do to make that happen. Not because you're a liability, not because of Tobias Hankel, but because of who you are and because of who she is."

Reid pushed his fingers back into his knee, scratching them along the surface. The rough cotton pressed back.

"In protecting you she was holding onto those parts of herself that are important to her, holding onto the things we all try to hold onto. The things that remind us of why we do this job and the things we want to preserve in the world… the innocence we try to protect."

Reid filled his lungs with air. His ribs murmured against him. "I'm not… innocent," he breathed. "You know I'm not."

Morgan tipped his head, like he was looking at Reid anew, and a smile appeared, wide and genuine. There was something behind it Reid couldn't quite decipher.

"Morgan."

"Reid, trust me when I tell you that you are over thinking this. In the end there are only two things you need to know: What happened to Emily was not your fault. And as a team we will be grateful to God for all eternity that both of you got out of there alive. Understand?"

Reid considered and looked around. They were closer to home than he'd thought. "I understand," he said.

"Okay." Morgan smiled again. He hesitated a second, then let go of Reid's wrist and started the car.

"Morgan?"

"Yeah."

"I am grateful… that we both got out of there alive."

Morgan's smile broadened. "Now that's what I'm talking about." He reached over, clamping his hand on the back of Reid's neck, giving a shake. "Amen."

Reid folded his arms back over himself. His lips pulled up in an embarrassed smile. He pressed his fingers into his sore ribs and felt the ache flare and then settle, hurt but healing. "Amen," he whispered and looked back out the window.

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End


End file.
